What if healing isn’t about fixing?

Some days, it’s not even the pain that’s hardest. It’s the part where you keep hoping things might’ve gone differently. Where you replay every moment looking for a way it could’ve ended better. And somehow, you always find a way to blame yourself.

I’ve done this too. I remember sitting in my car outside the grocery store, hands on the wheel, heart racing over something that happened months before. The situation was over. But my nervous system hadn’t gotten the memo. That’s what happens when you’re stuck in survival mode. Even when things are calm on the outside, you’re still fighting something inside. Still rewriting the past. Still trying to fix what broke you.

But eventually, the fixing starts to break you more.

That’s where acceptance begins. Not in clarity or closure, but in exhaustion. You stop trying because you’re tired. You let go because you physically can’t keep holding it anymore. And at first, it doesn’t feel empowering. It feels like failure. Like you’re giving up. Like maybe they win.

But then something shifts. That stillness? It starts to feel like relief. A breath you didn’t know you were holding. A tiny thread of peace. Not because the situation changed, but because you stopped bleeding energy into something that was never yours to carry in the first place.

Healing doesn’t always start with answers. Sometimes it starts when you stop arguing with what already happened. That’s what acceptance is. Not pretending it didn’t hurt. Not deciding it was “meant to be.” Just letting it be what it is, so you can stop abandoning yourself in the name of fixing something that cracked you open.

And progress? It doesn’t always look like a glow-up. Sometimes it looks like brushing your teeth after crying through breakfast. Or answering one text. Saying no and not explaining why. Feeling peace about something that used to ruin your day. Sitting with the trigger and realizing you don’t need to chase it anymore. That’s the part no one claps for. But it matters.

So if you’re in that space right now—raw, tired, honest with yourself—I want you to know: you’re not broken. You’re not behind. You’re just in the quiet part. The part where your body starts to believe that safety isn’t somewhere else. It’s here, with you. And that counts.

That’s healing too. ❤️

See you next Saturday,

Suttida

Still doing the work. Still showing up. Always with you in it.